Chapter III

Once we were led on board a great wooden vessel, we observed the craftsmanship of its hand-carved wooden rails, down to the finished tied rope that led not to sails, like in the old fairytales from long ago in our world, but to balloons full of helium, giving the ship the ability to fly among the floating islands we’ve become accustomed to. Two large cannon-shaped thruster engines sat dangling over the ship's back.

The captain of the ship turned to Arthur with a scowl as she barked, “Search them!” Quickly, our bodies were patted down for anything useful. The only thing they found on me was a water bottle; nothing on Gamba, and only Arthur’s wooden sword was confiscated. The man who took it observed the blade, giving a chuckle at the absurdity of the weapon in modern-day situations. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too, till I saw what he could do with it,” I thought to myself but never said a word out loud.

The large man was about to walk away when he noticed the medallion around Arthur’s neck. In one swipe of his hand, he stripped him of the strange wooden object.

“Take them to the brig! I’m tired of looking at them!” shouted the captain.

“Really, must we do the whole brig thing?” Arthur rolled his eyes as he observed the clouds rolling in, both above and below us. “Now, frankly, I’m quite parched. Can we not get refreshments and a meal?” he said as a cocky smirk spread across his lips. The captain and I had the same desire at that very moment: to slap him upside the head. With a groan, I set my hand on my temple, feeling that this loser was going to be the death of me. I immediately regretted following him into this mess, but before I could do anything else, I heard his next line: “You know I am no good to you dead. If I die of starvation, there goes your last lead to the treasure.”

The captain growled, clenching her fist, but finally turned away from us. “BARK!” she called out, and a beefy pirate raised his head for orders. “Take these scallywags down to the brig and fetch them a sandwich or something,” she spat, turning on her heel to face Arthur and drawing her sword. “Any more demands?” she asked with a wave of her blade. “Should I get you a pillow and a fancy royal bed?” she said, drawing closer to him. “Perhaps a massage and a pedicure while we’re at it!” she added, bringing her blade to his neck.

“A nap would be good, but I don’t mind sleeping in the brig,” he replied, lowering his head, despite her weapon. “But I wouldn’t mind some meat in that sandwich with a side of grapes.” He lowered his eyebrows mockingly.

“Why, you—” the captain growled, only for the one called Bark to shout, “We have grapes!” This caused his leader to turn her hateful expression toward him instead. With a drop of sweat on Bark's bald head, he shrank back a step before his captain's impending rage. But it never came. Instead, she lowered her weapon. “Well, where are we going then?” she asked, clenching her fist around the handle.

“A little island called Scarf; it’s a one-mountain island with many caves and tunnels.”

“If you’re lying, I’ll kill you,” she growled.

“Oh, I know. Don’t worry about that, but you should know,” Arthur continued as he began strolling along the deck. “It’s an island with pretty much one mountain full of caves. The treasure is hidden in one, but without me, you’ll never find it,” he said, shaking his head and teasing his captors.

“And you're reminding us of this because—” Nalla mumbled through grit teeth.

“To make it clear, our deal is met,” he said, turning on his heel toward her. “Scarf has a small town, so—”

“I get it," she barked, “you go free,” she raised her pitch before dropping it as low as she could. “If I get my treasure!” she reminded him.

“Just checking,” he chuckled. “Now, my men and I have not had good slumber.”

“Now, my men and I have not slept well in a few days; I request a pi—”

“Enough!” Nalla slammed her foot down. “Bark, get these idiots out of my sight!”

Bark, who was the largest on the ship, other than Gamba, gave me a kick to get me moving down the steps leading to the cells, along with Trevor, Gamba, and Arthur, whose conniving grin never wavered as we were once again locked up. I was beginning to think he was crazy, or that Gamba and I were for following him. Either way, things would only go from bad to worse as Bark fetched us ham sandwiches, which were clearly just leftovers the rest of the crew didn’t want.

The sandwich wasn’t much—one piece of moldy bread, barely edible due to how stale it was, and the ham smelled fresh, too fresh for my liking. It still sat on the bone, bloody and raw. It was all over the cheese. Needless to say, as I sat staring at it, I reached for the grapes instead. My troll friend didn’t seem interested in the food either. Instead, Gamba shook and shivered in the corner. “You just punched through a bunch of royal guards a few days ago. What’s the matter with you?” I grumbled as I popped a grape in my mouth.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“Pa, pi, pirates, Gammba scared of pirates,” the troll stuttered as it did all it could to shrink in the corner.

“Well, I suppose everyone’s afraid of something,” sighed Arthur, tossing aside the bread and biting into the ham as if it were the tastiest thing he’d ever had. I could hear him moan in delight as he chewed, savoring every morsel despite the blood dripping from his mouth.

“You gonna eat that?” he asked me, pointing at my meal, Without question, I pushed it toward him across the floor of the cell. Just as he had done with his own sandwich, he discarded the moldy bread and went straight for the bloody pork.

With a gag, I couldn’t help but ask, “How can you eat that?”

He raised a finger,and didn't speak until he swallowed. “I’m a carnivore,” he replied, while picking between his teeth with his pinky. “My people are carnivorous. In fact, this isn’t even the rarest meat I’ve ever eaten.”

There was a strange shift in his tone then, a glimpse of something deeper as he took another bite, tearing at the flesh with his sharpened teeth. After devouring every morsel of meat on the bone. Afterwards he tossed over the moldy bread to me. “Here eat the cheese at least, you'll need your strength. He said before popping a grape in his mouth.

“For a carnivore, you sure like grapes,” I tilted my head.

Once again, he wouldn’t answer until every bite in his mouth was gone. “Grapes and berries are a guilty pleasure; I like how squishy and bite-sized they are.” He chuckled in delight, squishing one between his thumb and finger before popping it in his mouth. “I do not eat grains, though, or any vegetable for that matter. Such matters are for the lesser beings like your kind.”

“Gee, thanks,” I replied with little energy in my sarcastic remark. “So who is Peter the Pirate anyway? What’s this treasure all about?”

“You never heard the legendary tale of Peter the Pirate?” asked a voice from the back of our cell. I turned my head to the darkest corner of the room, where Trevor was eating his grapes, not giving the sandwich another look.

“You gonna eat that?” asked Arthur as he popped a grape in his mouth, savoring its juice. Trevor shoved the sandwich over to the mage before standing up and waddling over to me. He gulped as his skin turned nearly as green as the grapes in my hand as he stumbled against the wall, thanks to the swaying of the room.

“What’s wrong with you?” I groaned, half interested.

“Uh, motion sick—” he began, only to clamp his mouth shut as he held back his vomit. Once he swallowed it, he leaned against the wall and slid down it, sitting next to me. Strangely, his stench barely bothered my nose. It seemed I had just gotten used to both the smell of body odor and the smell of fresh bloody meat. Gamma’s stench didn’t even bother me now. And it wasn’t until Trevor sat next to me that I came to realize that. We waited until he was able to collect himself and speak again.

“Peter the Pirate was a wild elf who sailed the skies searching for treasure unlike any other. What that treasure was, he never told a damn soul.” He groaned as he clutched his stomach.

“Aren't you a pirate?” I asked.

“Uh, what can I say? My sister is right. Due to my motion sickness, I don’t sail well, alright?” He put his hand over his head. “You’d think after spending my life on a ship, it wouldn’t affect me,” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled his hand down his face. “Alright, when my father was my age, he joined Peter the Pirate on a wild goose chase. He sailed with him for years until he came across what he was searching for. Whatever it was, it must have been important. Whether it be riches or jewels or some type of magical artifact from the olden days, he tracked it down to the vampire's nest.My father and he fought against the vampire but ultimately came up empty-handed. The pirates ran for their lives, but the only one who survived was my father—not empty-handed. He was able to steal the map to Peter the Pirate's treasure, which was filled with personal notes written by him and a small island in the tropics realm.” Trevor narrowed his eyes. “Whatever Peter the Pirate was searching for had something to do with the demon king. Can you imagine what power that could be?” He giggled like a crazy man.

“The demon king!” Gamma shouted before huddling under his own body.

“Ha, the demon king, huh?” barked Arthur unamused

“What, do you not believe in the old stories?” I asked him as a cold shiver struck my spine.

“Oh, everyone knows that story,” he groaned.

But it’s true Trevor yelled. “The tale of how King Arthur overcame the demon king, who ruled over the medieval era. He single handedly struck him down with his mighty sword.

One slash from him was so strong it split the world apart, separating us and sealing away the wretched down on the volcanic and dark oceans of hell below, WHAT IF THE TREASURE IS THE SWORD OF KING ARTHUR ITSELF!!!

“Is that the story they tell nowadays?” Arthur replied emotionless.

“Yeah everyone knows that,” I told him.

“Well that’s not the story I was told,” he said as he turned to the room.”

“Long ago, there was the so-called demon king as you call him. who wanted to live forever.” Arthur told us, lowering his brow. “To do so he foraged magical keys that when brought together, would make him a god. But King Arthur stopped his descent, and used said keys, to split his home of canterlot into two. The islands above, which forage into several realms, and the cursed world bellow, in hopes of imprisoning him and his kind for good.”

“Keys?” I asked with a skepticism in my voice, and a tilt to my head.

“It’s just a story, " he said, rubbing his thumb over his medallion, but I could tell by the far away look on his face that it was something much more to him.

“But what does that have anything to do with you?”

“Nothing, go to sleep, " he groaned before laying over in his side of the wooden floor., leaving us all with questions.